


This Was Not a Typical Day in Hogwarts…By Any Means!

by Bonfoi



Series: the original The Silver Snitch stories [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Fluff, Humor, M/M, OOC-ness, Other, PWP, Parody, Romance, TSS, The Silver Snitch, crack!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-04
Updated: 2012-04-04
Packaged: 2017-11-03 00:41:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/375146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bonfoi/pseuds/Bonfoi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Break-ups, make-ups, get-togethers, separations...<br/>all the lovers' ailments are on display at Hogwarts...</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Was Not a Typical Day in Hogwarts…By Any Means!

**Author's Note:**

> Good things come to those who wait…But, at Hogwarts Castle, those who scheme will get theirs soonest! Sorry…can’t drop any names…The surprises are more than half the fun! 
> 
> The use of multiple punctuation marks is merely for humor, not an outright misuse.  
> 
> 
> All characters are of-age.
> 
> Originally Published: 08/23/2005 on the original The Silver Snitch (TSS), edited 04/03/2012

§¤§¤*§*¤§¤§ 

**_ Disclaimer:_** The world of Harry Potter, its characters and settings are the copyrighted works of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., her publishing companies and affiliates. No profit was made from the writing of this story nor was any malice intended in any way, shape or form to the author or the actors/actresses who so brilliantly have brought them to life. 

This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A tongue-in-cheek fiction

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Let’s do it! Right here! You’ve been hounding me all day. Well, then, fine! Start dropping trow!!!”

The helmet of one of the suits of armor swiveled so rapidly, it went bouncing down the stairs, clattering and clanging as students scattered out of its way. Three portrait residents fell into the painting of a muddy lily pond, splashing painted water onto the floor, thereby precipitating several slip-and-fall accidents.

“Oh, so now that I’ve finally stopped running, you can’t get it up??? What a crock! And, to think half the school thinks you’re a walking orgasm! Pfft!!!”

The echo of bodies fainting left and right broke the sudden silence. Then, steady footsteps were retreating to a disused tower at the back of the castle. Another set of feet was hoofing up the ‘down’ stairs, parting the student body like a shark’s fin.

In a small nook, four beady eyes glanced back the way the first body had come. When they turned towards each other, they shared a long blink, then a pair of winks. Their plan was going along swimmingly! Soon all the pawns would be in place. They clapped hands like excited three-year-olds, then ‘shushed’ each other!

~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~

Ron tumbled down the stairs as they stopped moving, no one seemed to notice he was under their feet. The crowd just continued on its merry way, blithely ignoring the lanky red-headed carpet. Suddenly, a thin hand reached down for him.

“Reaaallyyy…Weasley! I would have thought you’d mastered walking by now?” None other than Professor Snape was helping him, Ronald Bilius Weasley, ‘one of those annoying Gryffindors who was always getting in trouble’. _The one that he dreamed of rimming the night before, using his newly improved peppermint-flavored lubricant!_

Severus couldn’t seem to stop himself. The gangly teen had become a fiery swan practically overnight. The infamous quick temper had cooled slightly, the freckled skin had become creamy and interesting, and the body had filled out impressively. He’d just had to touch it, and when someone had tripped the young man at his feet, it was as if Merlin had gifted him with the opportunity!

Neither one of them realized the professor was still holding Ron’s hand. His thumb began rubbing small circles on the back of it as he stared into the auburn-haired man’s blue eyes. He’d never before noticed how there were blue chips of color near the iris, or how they were almost the same height, with Severus now the one an inch or two shorter.

Unconsciously, Ron’s hand tightened on the once-dreaded potion-stained fingers. He stepped closer to his rescuer, a faint smile flirting with his lips. There was something enticing about the Potions Master holding his hand; something he hadn’t seen before. _There was a hint of lilacs in the air; he liked lilacs, all the different kinds; he wanted to grow them around their cottage._ He just had to get closer…

“Ron!!!” The harsh screech of Hermione Jane Granger broke the spell. Hands parted, eyes shifted, and the two men fell back into their assigned roles.

“Thaa…thank you, Professor Snape,” the blushing boy stuttered out. _What had he been thinking? Oh, Merlin, he’d almost kissed the man! In a busy Hogwarts hall!_

Severus Snape felt the withdrawal of his fiery swan back into a confused boy. He wanted him to stand up to the bushy-haired bitch and tell her to ‘shut it’ or at least to walk away from her. Instead, it was him who turned smartly on his heel, robes flaring out dramatically, to call over his shoulder, “Just mind your step, Weasley.”

Four downcast eyes grimaced. This pair would be harder to match, as that…that wild-haired female would stick her nose into everything! They’d have to do something to get her out of the way…

~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~

Professor Rolanda Xiomara Hooch (1) was in a quandary! She needed an assistant this year as she’d won a Wizard’s Lottery prize: two months in Salem, Massachusetts, United States. It was a joke, she thought, until the official letter from the American Ministry of Magic International Relations Branch came to her, via of all things, a…a pigeon!

Said pigeon was now cooing in her ear, having taken a liking to the often abrasive flying professor. As a joke, she’d taken to calling it ‘Pot-pie’, and the daft thing responded! She threw her hands up in the air, Americans!! Daft, the whole place was daft!! And, she would be going there for two months! Who could she trust to watch over Quidditch and the pitch? Who would she feel safe teaching the First and Second years how to fly?

~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~

Alone in her tower, Sibyll Patricia Trelawney (2) sipped a very small glass of fine sherry and removed her glamours one by one. Instead of being rail thin like a spindle, she was quite curvy and would have made anyone a snug armful. The glasses she hid behind were replaced a smaller, more modern set of frames, with lightly-tinted blue lenses. The gauzy scarves that were always dripping off her waving arms were collected and set aside in a drawer for tomorrow.

Standing tall, she unpinned her three gypsy braids, and undid the hair and silk ribbons. Finger-combing the loosed tresses, she shimmied out of her concealing robes and the kaftans she wore under them. There was only a faint hint of grey in her hair, and everything else was still as firm as when she was twenty!

All in all the body reflected in the conjured mirror looked much younger than the possible age of forty-four. She was in fact well over seventy-five, and if caught out, that would have been what she’d claim. Unfortunately the person she wanted to share this remarkably preserved, and supple, body with, didn’t even notice her.

~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~

When he’d spontaneously switched due to stress, Blaise Zabini hadn’t known that Albus Dumbledore was a hermaphrodite as well. One that had been waiting eighty years to meet another of his kind. Knowing that the gorgeous Italian was not only the same magical species as himself, but, available to boot, the sneaky old man had raced—as fast as his one-hundred-fifty-year-old body could go—to Professor Snape’s potions room.

Now, the headmaster had no problem with students and professors sharing a relationship; they just couldn’t be in the same classes, nor could the student be under the age of consent, but those pictures of Ronald Weasley!! Oh, my! If the wizard hadn’t had his heart set on Blaise, he would have conjured a net and bagged the youngest Weasley male himself!

But, we digress… 

“Sev…er…us…” the Headmaster panted. “I…need…a…potion…” He was wheezing like a holey accordion. 

Severus leaped up to settle the gasping man into a convenient chair. “Albus! What in the world is wrong with you? A man your age shouldn’t be rushing around like that!”

“Tha…that’s…why I’m….I’m here…” The high color in his mentor’s cheeks was alarming, the clammy fingers even more so. 

“Let me get Poppy, Albus! She’ll be able to help you!” Severus was turning away as those old, but strong, fingers latched onto his robes.

“NO!” The hero who’d defeated Grindelwald was still in the old carcass; with his breath finally under control, he could get what he wanted. “I’m fine, my boy. I just need to know if you have any de-aging potions handy.” The wheedling tone of voice didn’t sit well in the benign face—it was just too Slytherin of the old Gryffindor.

Taking a step back, the potions master still didn’t get out of reach of those grasping liver-spotted hands. He actually dragged the poor old dear clean out of his chair! Looking down at the sprawled man on the floor, still attached to his robes somehow, he just had to ask, “Why?”

“If I’m young, I can have Zabini! He’s just like me, a hermaphrodite! I’ve been waiting so long, Severus! I haven’t been shagged in eighty years!!” The headmaster was shaking like a leaf by the time he was done, and the glimmer of tears in those normally twinkling eyes were something to behold…well, they were also very effective; Severus dragged the man still clinging to his robes towards the potions cabinet. He unlocked it, physically and magically, and pulled out a cut-crystal phial.

“Here…this should change you back to thirty or forty years of age. Any younger, and I can’t guarantee if it would stick.” He watched the man who had shepherded him through his break with Voldemort gulp the clear liquid; within moments where once had been a wreck of an old man lay a tall, auburn-haired, bright blue-eyed, sexy thing! “For the record, that is a permanent potion. You will age normally once again.”

“Oh, thank you, Severus! Thank you!!” Albus Dumbledore scrambled up from the floor with an agility he’d forgotten. He was going to find his little switch-hitter and shag like Hogwarts had never seen!!

He found the Slytherin on his bed, after asking the castle where he was—he’d forgotten he could do that in his excitement. The mostly male hermaphrodite had been surprised when a red-haired man wearing Dumbledore’s hideous robes ripped open his bed-curtains. Then, he/she hadn’t thought about much of anything but how much he’d been missing never having shagged another hermaphrodite before!!

Snuggled against a once-again auburn-haired, bright blue-eyed Albus Dumbledore, Blaise switched from male to female in an instant. He felt the cock resting against his hip give a thumping welcome to its other home, and smiled. Normally, even among hermaphrodites, there was a more dominant side; for Blaise, it was his male side which usually had to be fucked or be doing the fucking first for the female side to get any action. Meeting Albus had shown him they could co-exist quite nicely when there was another of his species involved…and oh, how did they coexist!!

~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~

Draco Malfoy had had it up to **here** with the strange things going on in the school…

His bodyguards, Crabbe and Goyle, had started not only chasing, but, catching the Patil Twins; they were now a confirmed foursome! Blech! The less said about that, the better!

Blaise Zabini had been outed as a hermaphrodite with the ability to switch between genders, thus, earning him/her a date with none other than a de-aged Professor Dumbledore! Who knew the old man had been so flexible at thirty-four? 

Wonder of wonders, Professor Snape was stalking a Weasley, but, this one was **the** Weasel! There were even some risqué photos circulating of the red-head in nothing but a low-slung towel, of course taken by Colin ‘the Creep’ Creevey, after a Quidditch match. 

And on top of everything: His boyfriend of two years, six months, four days, and seventeen minutes had given him the boot, for reasons he still didn’t understand completely!

He shook his fair head and squinted, trying not to cry. _Malfoys do not cry!_ Right then, he could have kicked whoever had come up with all the ‘Malfoys do not’ rules!! They were as human as the rest of the planet, if just more magical and more power-hungry, is all!

Wiping the tears that had leaked out—showing his humanity—Draco Malfoy, scion of the House of Malfoy, Slytherin Ice Prince, and royal pain in the arse, thought of one rule he would follow, though: ‘Malfoys always keep what’s theirs!’

~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~

The mysterious four eyes were once again peeking out of a secluded niche, tucked away behind a row of knightly armor. They were observing the Bitch of Gryffindor, Hermione of the Painful Tones. She was using her voice to flagellate the youngest Weasley male; telling him how slow and plodding his reasoning was, that he should have known he was meant for her, and that he could have no one else romantically because no one else would put up with him!

In other words, she was mentally abusing the boy, who towered over her by a good thirteen inches! He was actually swaying in the nonexistent breeze, silent tears running down his face. He’d even started nodding in time with her accusations.

Enough was enough! A set of hands shoved at the suit of armor in front of it, pushing it to the side. This led to a domino effect, and suits were falling and clanging in a line, on-course for the loud-mouthed termagant. A lisped spell added a fine twist to the denouement; behind the nasty piece of feminine work a small puddle of oil was growing.

As the crashing suits of armor came at her, Hermione stutter-stepped backwards, pushing the shocked Ron away from her. Too bad she didn’t look before she did it! Her right foot came down in the slick puddle, and while she was off-balance, inertia set in. 

Now, as we all know, inertia just means a body in motion would rather remain in motion, just like a body at rest wants to remain at rest. So sad that the know-it-all-Gryffindor forgot that simple lesson. She flew down the hall, skidding from side-to-side like a backassward drunkard on rollerskates! Every so often, she bobbled over a loose helmet or a vindictive set of greaves. She finally ended up in a heap, greasy and surrounded by odds and ends of armor, which were trying to get away from her grasping hands.

Poor Ron had been surprised when she’d shoved him, at first. Then, he saw the windmill arms and the wider-than-her-narrow-bookworm’s-shoulders stance she’d fallen into, and he laughed! He laughed like he hadn’t laughed in ages! In fact, he laughed so long and so hard, he went down in Hogwarts: A History as having the deepest, longest sustained, happiest laugh in the history of the school!

Behind the now empty armor stand, the four eyes glinted at each other. There were crinkles next to them, the kind one gets when they are silently amused… 

Their work in that hallway was done for now. They’d saved one of their precious charges from a voice of despair. They just had to hope it would lead Ron to the man of his dreams.

~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~

Harry Potter missed his snuggly dragon! His bed was so big, and so lonely! It was just such a cluster fuck! And, he’d done it himself! He’d made Draco chase him all around school, never giving him a reason why, and when the love of his life didn’t say the right thing—well, how could he, since Harry hadn’t told him anything—Harry’s infamously hot temper had blazed into horrible life!

Fists pounded the feathers clean out of two pillows before Harry could stop crying for his ray of sunshine, his Draco. Sniffling and wheezing slightly, the Boy Who’d Mopped the Floor With You-Know-Who got up and dug through his trunk, looking for a jumper of Draco’s that he’d stolen when they first got together over two years before. _Ah, there it was!_

It was charmed to keep the Draco scent for as long as possible; Harry had made doubly-sure of the charm, getting Professor Flitwick to cast it for him. He always loved Draco’s cologne, a mix of snowdrops and ocean mist. Tears gathered in his eyes again. If he hadn’t been so obtuse and secretive, he’d be sharing space with the body that wore his favorite smells!

Pulling the sweater over his head, he clambered back into his lonely bed. Pushing loose feathers aside, and totally ignorant of the ones sticking pell-mell out of his messy hair, Harry Potter pulled the curtains shut and the blankets up, and conjured a blonde teddy bear to snuggle with. He’d have to find the man that made his heart pitter-patter, and apologize on very bended knee in the morning. The jumper and teddy bear were nothing like the real thing!

~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~

Madame Hooch looked everywhere for her transatlantic ticket. It wasn’t in her carry-all; it wasn’t in the cloak she’d worn last night; and, it most definitely wasn’t in her pantry. She’d checked there, twice! Oh, where had she put it?

In mid-step towards the bedroom, she heard a knock on her chamber door. “Rolanda? Are you still here?” The voice didn’t sound quite right, but, she opened the door anyway.

Standing in front of her was the real Sibyll Trelawney, all curves and rosy complexion, with fashionable eyewear, to boot! “Why are you staring at me like that? You’re the one who wanted me down here, and I quote your Howler: ‘Ruddy fast, you yammering fraud!’ Well, I’m here to tell you that you are the meanest witch I…I ever… _sniffle_ meh…meh…met!” The Divination Professor squalled, literally bawled like a baby!

The crustiest witch in current Hogwarts’ history found herself with an armful of Divination professor! A tidy bit that felt remarkably fine nestled up against her chest! Even if Sibyll was dripping on her neck!

“Trelawney! Why are you crying? Better yet, why by all that’s proper in Quidditch are you looking like that!?” Rolanda hadn’t been attracted to anyone since she’d seen a younger portrait of Minerva McGonagall dressed in a Quidditch uniform! Now, all of a sudden, she had a delectable morsel of… What was she thinking? This was Sibyll Trelawney!!

“I…I…errr…I…oh, bother!” The Divination Professor wrenched herself from the strong arms of her fantasy. She’d forgotten her glamours!! “Oh, bloody fucking shite!” Nervous hands raked through unbound hair; she hadn’t forgotten her glamours in over fifty years!

A Quidditch-roughened hand stopped her from flying out of the room. “You’re beautiful, Sibyll. Why did you hide this from us?” A hitched breath, then, “From me?” The Flying Professor no one had ever seen cry—even as a student—had a trail of slow tears going down her ruddy cheeks.

“But…but…you don’t like me, Rolanda! You’re always telling me to forecast some change in my employment!” Pushed over the emotional edge, Sibyll couldn’t contain herself. She started beating her fists on Rolanda’s shoulders, like a child throwing a tantrum. “You…big…meanie! Is it because I look like this that you’re feeling so kind towards me? What if my looks are gone tomorrow? Why couldn’t we be friends?” Her voice rose to the rafters, startling some small spiders from their webs.

Rolanda Xiomara Hooch had been in love with Sibyll Patricia Trelawney since the first time she’d seen her. She never even thought she had a chance; Sibyll was so exotic, so different from all the women she’d met. Now, here, just when time seemed to have run out, was the dream she’d been chasing for almost two decades.

“Mmrph…mmmm…” Madame Hooch was a straight-forward lover; she pressed her slightly chapped lips to the downy soft ones of her soon-to-be-lover. Mumbling against those plumping lips, she had one request, “Kiss me like you really mean it! If you do, I’ll teach you to fly without a broom…”

~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~

“Blaise, just how did you land the not-so-bad-looking, younger Dumbledore?” Draco was curious, even if he was in the middle of planning the retaking of his heart’s desire, and the most delectable shag to ever come out of Gryffindor Tower. Maybe he’d get an idea he could incorporate into his plans.

A mussed auburn head poked out of Blaise’s bed curtains. “Well, if you ask me, he shook that sweet piece of arse once, twice, thrice, and I was ready to bend the he/she over the nearest unmoving object! Whoot!” The body that followed was firm and toned, golden with a smattering of freckles, the chest had a triangle of auburn hair and a ‘happy trail’ of the same color that led to a small bush surrounding an impressive half-hard cock. What surprised Draco was the red-headed woman who stood there in the blink of an eye!

A dark hand reached from the bed and dragged the now-female Dumbledore back to the bed. “Malfoy, I was lucky! Now, go away…we’ve got some exploring to do!” Blaise’s voice was husky, probably from deep-throating that barmy coot’s member. “Oh, and Malfoy…if it will keep you away from us for the rest of the day…climb into the Gryffindor’s bed, shag him senseless, then apologize for anything you’ve ever even thought of!”

Before the silencing charms were cast, the Ice Prince of Slytherin heard two moans, and, “Ooooh…Merlin, boy! Did you put an engorgement charm on that thing?” The Headmaster’s feminine voice—a throaty alto—was actually quite fetching, and if Draco hadn’t been involved with Harry, he might have joined the randy twosome!

~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~

The mysterious eyes shared a glance in the teeming Great Hall during High Tea. Dumbledore and Zabini were missing, and had been since just after lunch the day before. The youngest Weasley male had been avoiding the Bitch of Gryffindor by the skin of his teeth; he’d been seen haunting the Slytherin dungeons during his perambulations. Someone had even heard that Madame Hooch had delayed her trip to the United States because she’d gotten a girlfriend. Hmm, wonder who that was?

Two down and two more to go…

The eyes blinked twice, then winked at each other. All they had to do was get Severus and Ron, Harry and Draco, into the correct arms, and keep them there. Echoing groans skirted just under the edge of sound. Those four never made anything easy.

~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~

“I can do this…I really can do this! It’s not that hard…really it’s not!” The tallest Weasley in school was muttering under his breath. There’d been a reason for his sorting into Gryffindor; somewhere, deep, deep down, he must have some extraordinary courage just waiting to be tapped. If he wanted to meet the soft side of Severus Snape, he was just going to have to pick himself up by the bootstraps and do it… _Oh, Merlin! The greasy git had gotten so handsome with the fall of Voldemort!_

“Severus…I like you…Severus…Sev…I really lih…” The door to his right opened suddenly. The man who made Ron’s pale skin flush and his brown eyes glaze over was standing framed in the doorway.

“Come in here, Mr. Weasley.” With a familiar swirl of black robes, Professor Snape turned and headed back into the gloom that was relieved by three large pillar candles.

Ron’s brown eyes were wide, trying to see everything and anything related to the man he’d improbably fallen in love with. Watching his obsession stalk away towards a desk partially hidden under student papers, quills, and two pots of ink—a very large one of red and a smaller one of deep blue—the Gryffindor smiled. The air smelled faintly of vanilla and raspberries, with a hint of smoky fire whiskey. All in all, it was perfect for his Severus.

A thin hand indicated a plush red velvet smoking chair. Ron never thought Seve…Professor Snape would have anything red around. “Th…thank you, sir,” the tall youth looked down two inches into obsidian eyes.

“What brings a lion to the snake pit, Mr. Weasley?” Severus’ voice was low, almost friendly, as he settled into a matching chair. “It takes a brave man to come here.” He took a sip from a small cup. As he blew away some of the heat, Ron smelled strong coffee. “Pardon me, would you like some Turkish coffee? It’s freshly brewed.”

Blinking rapidly, the young man said, “Oh, yes! I’ve heard of that; very strong stuff. If it…it wouldn’t be a bother, sir?” The look in his eyes seemed to intensify as he watched Severus stand up and walk toward a small alcove. He loved watching the sway of those lean hips as he moved. _Like a panther he is…_

From the corner of his eye, Severus watched the young man that he’d begun dreaming of after the Final Battle, during the Christmas holidays as everyone healed. Taller than himself—which pleased him immensely—lean and strong, even the red hair had become less brash and more fiery; he wanted Ronald Bilius Weasley with everything in him. Yet, not only was he a professor, but, he was too old to be the boy’s lover—his fiery lion deserved a lover that could make him the man just hiding under the surface.

Returning with another small cup of Turkish coffee, the professor handed it and the saucer to the boy he desired in his bed and his future. “Sir?” The timbre of the redhead’s voice had deepened with time, and was soothing on Severus’ ears. “I want to… I need to tell you something before I get too… Oh, bollocks!”

The fingers of one hand were clenching the lad’s longish hair as the other almost swallowed the tiny cup. Taking a chance, Severus knelt before Ron, taking the coffee away from him, and then grabbing the offending appendage. Holding the hand between his two, he began massaging the digits, slipping his own fingers suggestively along the smooth skin. 

Both of them began breathing faster as Severus worked his touch under the sleeves of Ron’s robe. Leaning closer to those pink lips he just had to taste, the snarkiest of the Slytherins again took a chance. With a deep breath, he asked, “May I kiss you, Ronald?” He raised his dark eyes to those brown ones, hoping against hope.

He shouldn’t have worried. In an instant, they were on the floor, Ron wrapped around Severus like Devil’s Snare, only much more welcome. 

“Ohh…I love you…Sev…” Ron whispered after they came up for air. He rested his head next to his lover’s and waited to hear his dismissal.

“Why don’t we discuss this in a more comfortable position? There is a lovely settee in the other room.” Severus was grinning in the direction of Ron’s ear. To drive the point home, he nipped the lobe and licked around the shell. The shuddering body atop his was a wonderful way to end his day.

Two cocks that had been twitching like mad made their presences known as well. Ron’s quaking movements were pushing him closer to a climax, but, he still heard the request. “You…you want me?” His eyes clouded over slightly; Severus Snape wanted him!

“Oh, Ronald…You are a fiery lion. Who wouldn’t be honored by your attentions?” In that moment, Severus vowed Ron would never doubt himself or his worth again. And, if Hermione of the not-even-close-to-dulcet tones said one word to his love, the bitch would be swimming with the Squid!

Ron scrambled off the older man and helped him stand up. Somehow in the standing, they both lost their robes. Ron wore a faded red pullover and his second-best dress pants. Severus was in a soft sweater of midnight blue with linen trousers. That didn’t matter, since they came together from lips to thighs; the heat they were generating could quite possibly warm the entirety of the dungeons.

After several very satisfactory minutes spent getting acquainted with each other’s tonsils, Ron pulled back to look at the flushed—happy—face of the man he wanted as his lover. “Sev…it’s okay if I call you that, isn’t it? Just where is that fine settee?”

Raising a thin eyebrow, Severus Snape, who had intimidated adults and children alike for almost twenty years, gave a Cheshire cat grin, “I’ll tell you…only if you keep kissing me like that!”

~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~

Overhearing his Head of House – and favorite professor – snogging a Weasley was not high on Draco’s list of things to do, but, it did give him pause… So far, two Slytherins he admired—in one way or another—were involved with Gryffindors. He himself had had his hands, lips, tongue, and teeth on his own Gryffindor Lion, and… Damn! He missed his green-eyed sex kitten!

Just the feel of that silky skin, those green eyes that seemed deep enough to drown in…. Why the hell was he standing there? Draco shook his head, and a smile bloomed on his thin lips. He was going to get his Gryffindor back, and he knew just the way to do it!

Running back towards the Slytherin common room, the Ice Prince was pink and smiling as he skidded to a stop. The entry way was open as Pansy Parkinson seemed to be dragging something—somebody?—wrapped in a Persian rug across the threshold.

“I’d ask what—or who—you have there, Parkinson, but, that’d be too much interest!” Draco’s supercilious tone was guaranteed to cause Pansy to blow. She’d been devastated when Harry and he got together. In her little mind, living in a land of Denial, they were a couple just waiting for the glorious wedding day! Like all Slytherins, she had plan after plan to break them up, but, none of them ever panned out!

Pansy puffed the hair out of her puggy-eyes and squinted up at the blonde god she coveted. No matter how hard she tried, she could never catch him, and now he was with that prat of a Gryffindor’s! Well, she’d show them…she’d show them both! “Mind your step, you silly git! This is my sacrifice for our betrothal; it took me a month to bag the twat!” she simpered and growled. It was something Draco hoped to never hear again…

Taking a deep breath, Slytherin’s best blew out his breath heartily. “Parkinson…how many times will it take before you get it through that stone you call a skull that I’m with Harry Potter? I love him, he loves me…get the picture?”

She prodded the body wrapped in the rug with a not-so-dainty kidskin-clad toe. Sandy blonde hair spilled out of the top as the rug flopped over; after his time around Harry, Draco recognized Seamus Finnigan’s hair! What the hell was going through her twisted mind?

“Parkinson, we are far beyond virgin sacrifices!” A muffled shriek seemed to agree with some part of that statement, but, a gentle nudge from Draco’s foot seemed to quiet the Gryffindor. “It’s really bad form to slice and dice fellow students, even the ones in the House of the Lion.” Again, a sound, something like ‘mmrph’ came from the wrapped Irishman.

“What will it take for you to get your pea-brain off the idea of marrying me? Or, at least for now, sacrificing other students?” Draco was beginning to understand why his godfather was always pinching the bridge of his nose; the motion kept him from throttling twits like Pansy!

“Go with me to Hogsmeade this weekend!” she shouted. Heads popped out of rooms, from behind furniture, and even from the fireplace. Everyone was waiting for their prince’s response.

“I will go with you to Hogsmeade this weekend.” He stuck his hand out. She shook it, then turned and went to the female’s dormitory.

Draco rolled his eyes; she was such a fool. It was a mystery how she ever made it into Slytherin. He bent down to unroll the Gryffindor taco. Once that was accomplished, he hauled the boy up with an admonition, “Pick somewhere else to be stupid, please? Now, go wake Harry and tell him to meet me at the Astronomy Tower at midnight!”

Like a bat on fire, Seamus zoomed out of the Slytherin common room, apologizing to the wall as he banged into it on his way out. _Gryffindors! How did they ever survive long enough to procreate?_

~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~

Sibyll found herself wrapped in Quidditch-toned arms and listening to Rolanda’s sibilant breaths as she slept. She kind of liked the sound; it was soothing in the darkness of the curtained bed. And, Rolanda’s arms were the safest place she’d ever been.

They’d spent a wonderful evening, snogging and canoodling, with a candle-lit dinner catered by the house-elves. Between kisses and clandestine caresses when the elves were around, the two witches made plans for the next day. Sibyll had found the transatlantic ticket, which had magically become for two when she touched it; Mme. Hooch told her she’d won a trip for two, but, hadn’t known to ask her crystal-ball-gazing crush to come with!

Settling back into sleep, the Divinations Professor just knew something momentous was about to happen…

~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~

Harry pried his gritty eyes open and tumbled out of bed with a muffled cry. He was still clutching the conjured blonde teddy bear, which was somehow smirking at his disheveled look. “Just ‘cuz you’re my snuggly dragon’s replacement does not give you permission to smirk at me!” He shook the teddy bear drawing an indignant squawk from the stuffed toy.

“Fine!” He tossed the toy onto his unmade bed, making certain it landed softly on the pillows. It still had its little teddy smirk in place.

Digging through his trunk for a pair of brown corduroy pants that would go Draco’s oversized jumper, Harry tried to come up with likely scenarios where his lover would take him back with open arms. Giggling to himself hysterically, he changed into silk boxers—courtesy of Draco—and got dressed for his apology to the love of his life.

Running into the room, Ron was startled by the maniac that looked like Harry giggling and crying over a blonde teddy bear. The night before, he’d talked and snogged with his Severus— _his_ —he like that! He felt he could do anything: leap tall buildings with a single bound, hex Hermione’s mouth shut, anything!

“Harry? Harry, mate, tell me what’s wrong?” He put a hand out to rub Harry’s back, but, there was suddenly a long-fingered, pale hand underneath his. 

“I’ll take it from here, Red. He’s my business; you’ve got your own man to rub,” Draco whispered as he sank down next to his emerald-eyed sex-kitten. “Kitten, I’m here…” he murmured into those silky raven locks he so adored. “I take it Finnigan didn’t make it back here to let you know I was in the Astronomy Tower at midnight?”

The dark-haired teen’s head wobbled against Draco’s shoulder, and a tiny voice said, “No…”

“Dragon, I missed you so very much… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what I wanted; I figured you’d know since you’re the Slytherin Sex God!” Harry’s right index finger was tracing arcane symbols all over his lover’s thighs, exciting him even if this might just be the worst possible time.

Ron smiled at the pair, hoping they’d get their shit together and patch things up; neither one was a barrel of laughs without the other. With a deep sigh, he began rummaging through his trunk, looking for something nice to wear to dinner with Severus. He tuned out the lovebirds on Harry’s bed, but, not before he cast a notice-me-not charm on the bed and its occupants.

“Kitten, will you tell me now?” Draco squirmed into a more comfortable position on Harry’s bed, moving the new blonde teddy out of the way. It winked at him as he ran a soothing hand up and down his boyfriend’s back, pressing here and there against the tense muscles. “You know I love you, Green Eyes, please…tell me?” he whispered into the silky strands beneath his chin.

Harry’s finger had kept tracing on Draco’s thighs, getting closer and closer to the boner he’d been trying to hide from Ron. With a tiny whimper, he quivered under Harry’s hand when he finally put his palm over it, following the bulge from top to bottom and back again. “Umm, Draco…I wanted you to tiemeupanduseavibratoron me…”

Draco had spent years learning to translate Harry’s mumbles…If he were right, Harry wanted him to tie that delectable body up and use a vibrator on him? Now, why couldn’t he have said that in the first place? He had a few toys for his sexy magician to choose from down in the dungeons.

“Harry, look at me.” Draco moved so that his lover could look him in at least one eye. “Why didn’t you tell me? You know I’ve had dildos and vibrators stockpiled in the dungeons. Why did we have to go through all this?”

A very red Gryffindor not of the Weasley persuasion grimaced up at him. “I did, Snuggles…I put the silk ties on your bed, and I got out three lovely vibrators and oil, too! I went to the bathroom to freshen up and you’d taken everything off the bed and were sound asleep, face planted in your pillow!” Tears, round as pearls, rolled down those soft cheeks.

Draco remembered now; that night he’d just had a row with his parents about Harry. And, his kitten didn’t know why he’d been face down in his pillow; he’d been crying in anger, since they wouldn’t give him the family engagement rings. His Harry was so special, and he’d wanted to make two fantasies come true, but his parents had ruined it for him, and caused this rift between the two of them.

“Oh, Merlin, Harry, I’m so terribly sorry!” Long, thin fingers combed through blonde hair, mussing the Slytherin persona. “I…I wanted to…propose to you that night, and Mater and Pater wouldn’t give me the Malfoy engagement rings. I was just so upset, nothing else seemed to matter.”

A gentle hand, strong enough to slay evil wizards and more talented at wringing screaming orgasms from Draco’s body, brushed over his cheek and lips. That was Harry’s sign that he was forgiving his lover; the satisfying kiss that followed was just gravy on top of it.

Harry pulled back slightly from their ‘make-up’ kiss and saw the pain in his snuggle dragon’s eyes. “I don’t need rings to want to marry you, Draco; I just need you. Tie me up to make it up to me?” he grinned saucily.

Twenty minutes later, naked and panting after dual hand-jobs, the two fiancés smirked at each other. “I’ll tie you up later, Harry. Right now, I have to take the place of an impertinent blond teddy bear,” Draco’s droll voice rumbled in Harry’s ear.

~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~

A little gong sounded in a hidden room of the castle. Two conspirators sighed in relief. The four couples that had been apart were finally together, for keeps. Now, all they needed to do was present them at tomorrow’s dinner, and the prophecy would be fulfilled and the watchers could get on with their own lives.

A bottle of butterbeer clinked against a mug of honeyed mead. Their world was on the road to being peaceful, at least for a few hundred years, once again.

~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~

Ron tugged at Severus’ hand, he was so excited. They were going to meet Harry and Draco at the doors of the Great Hall for an impromptu high tea. The fact that Severus Snape, ex-Death Eater, snarky bastard extraordinaire, and premier Potions master of the United Kingdom had agreed to not only hold hands in public, but got to tea with Harry Potter, was a miracle!

“Sev, why **are** you going to high tea with Harry and Draco?” Ron suddenly stopped pulling his lover through the halls of Hogwarts. He had to know.

“Ronald, Harry is your friend, and my savior. If I can fall in love with a lion, I should be able to stomach the kitty-cat that is Harry Potter!” snarked the man who’d stolen the redhead’s heart. “Besides, I don’t feel like hiding anymore. It’s a new day, a new world, and I’ve got you beside me.” He stepped closer, and not caring who saw them, swept Ronald Weasley into a back-bending, passionate, tooth-counting kiss of epic proportions—it too would go down in Hogwarts: A History, as the most thorough kiss to be given in the open of the Hogwarts halls.

Draco and Harry thought it such a good idea, they decided to copy it. Harry crawled up Draco’s body, lithe like a monkey and wrapped himself around his Slytherin as if he were Devil’s Snare and Draco his trellis. If one had cared to observe them, you could almost see their tonsils being batted back and forth.

Coming from a hidden niche behind the suits of armor, Mme. Hooch and Professor Trelawney giggled at each other and turned right round for their hidey-hole. They weren’t exhibitionists like the others, even though they did forget the silencing charms!

And, the final pair…they came skidding through the doors of the Great Hall, disheveled and gasping. There was no need to wonder at what they’d been up to; from turret to dungeon, field to classroom, the two hermaphrodites had been shagging, copulating, fornicating, and fondling each other on every flat—and not-so-flat—surface of Hogwarts Castle. There were virgins in the school that had better sexual educations because of their antics than their parents ever worried about!

The mysterious duo’s eyes met across the foyer. The couples were in proximity; surely this would meet the conditions of the prophecy?

A crack of thunder sounded **inside** the castle proper. But, the couples were so involved with each other, they barely registered the noise. Then, Fawkes buzzed each pair of lovers, dropping a tear on each one’s head; a few thought it was from another part of the daft birdie!

With a shout of joy, Professor Flitwick rushed across the entry way, into the arms of his lover, Peeves the Poltergeist. They’d been waiting eighty-five years for the prophecy of lovers to come true! As soon as they touched, Peeves was once again alive, and draped over the diminutive professor, kissing every little bit in sight. Once they were glimpsed canoodling in the Astronomy Tower, and then run out by Filch from the Greenhouses…after that, they disappeared for days.

In later years, the Miracle of Love—though, having Peeves as a real live trickster might not be perceived as such—would be hailed as the best thing to happen to the Wizarding World. But, to the couples who were there, it was the day they got engaged! And/or came out to the rest of the school!

Oh, for the interested in the audience, the prophecy went something like this:

__

Five by five they will arrive  
Caught in chains of their own making  
With moans and groans of bodily slaking  
Surprises will they unleash  
The dead will rise  
The meek shall conquer  
The odd will find the other  
And, Dragons shall devour Kittens with their consent  


~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~*^*~~~

~~ Epilogue ~~

Hermione Granger pushed the stringy hair off of her sweaty face. It was the annual bathing of the beasts under Hagrid’s care. She’d never been able to pry Ron away from his now husband; they were disgustingly happy in their marriage. She’d even gone after Harry, convinced his gayness was merely an aberration brought on by one too many flobberworm exposures!

A week after graduation, Professor Flitwick and his now solid lover, Peeves, had been married by a smirking auburn-haired Albus Dumbledore, himself married to recently matriculated Blaise Zabini. The four-some would be sharing passage to a small island off the coast of Croatia, Brioni, where they’d go their separate ways, then meet up after two weeks for the return trip.

The Gryffindor know-it-all had opted out of being at the castle for the day as Ron and Snape were celebrating their formal engagement, with the Order of the Phoenix and all the Weasleys in the kingdom descending on the place. There was no way she wanted to be party to the pitying glances they’d heap on her.

And, the Potters! Ugh! Harry had gotten pregnant—pregnant by Draco Sodding Malfoy! The two had married a month before graduation; Harry couldn’t wait to be bonded with the man who had given him a family. Hermione spit onto the small patch of dry ground near the tub, waiting for the next creature.

Even Mesdames Hooch and Trelawney were smelling of April and May! How could those two desiccated, fumbling witches find someone to love them and here she was, the smartest witch in a century, washing animals for a living? She screamed, not caring who heard her.

Up at the castle, Ron and his lover heard a thin wail coming from the direction of Hagrid’s hut. Sharing a lingering kiss, they smiled at the joint thought that karma is a wonderful thing… and irony hits like an anvil!

**~~~ Finis ~~~**

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From: www.hp-lexicon.org/(c. 2005)

(1) Madam Hooch's first name is given as "Rolanda" in the Trading Card Game. The Internet Movie Database website lists her first name as "Xiomara." Obviously they can't both be correct. Neither is considered canon until independently confirmed by JKR.

(2) Office: she lives and has her classroom at the top of North Tower  
Habits: reclusive because she doesn't want to cloud her Inner Eye; superstitious  
Drink: sherry, apparently, since she drank an entire bottle of it after being sacked (although getting into the cooking sherry is a stereotypical image of someone who is losing it...)


End file.
